River in the road
by Vernon Danforth
Summary: Run, darling, run. I'll stall them while I can. Don't look back to see the blood..


"Is the bait in place?"

"Yes, sir. It is."

"Excellent. Don't hold back."

* * *

heh

* * *

"We did it!"

"Thanks, Sonic. For saving me."

"Don't you worry about it, Sal. Do you want to walk?"

"Yes, please."

He comes to a stop, and gently lets her down. Holding onto him for support, she lets go once she's on the ground. Stable. She seems a bit shaken.

"Are you alright?"

She looks up at him questionably. Closing her eyes, her mouth stretches into a warm smile.

"I'm alright now."

"Good."

Her eyes open, and her gaze falls to the ground. The smile fades.

"It's just that-"

"Just that what?"

* * *

She could feel herself blushing, her cheeks burning hot. Red hidden underneath her thick coat of brown fur. This was it. This was her chance to tell him how she felt all those years. This would be an ideal time to tell him how she loved him. How she was sorry for kind of treating him like shit on a daily basis, and how it was just a defense mechanism. How all she ever wanted was to settle down and start a family. And she would tell him all of these things a thousand times over, if only she didn't lack the courage.

* * *

"I- it's nothing. Never mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Where we going? Are we going home?"

"No. We have to meet Antoine and Rotor at the rendezvous point."

"Oh…"

Something was wrong. He could tell by the look in her eyes. He felt a sudden emptiness. A bad feeling of sorts. Something irks him about the look on her face, so to speak.

"Are you alright, Sal?"

"Sure"

The expression doesn't falter. Her face tells an entirely different story than her words.

"Are you sure? Is something bothering you? You can tell me."

Her gaze is cast down, at the dead, motionless leaves below their feet. The breeze gently lifts and pushes them around. They don't travel, just kind of dance with the cool autumn air. The wind can be heard blowing faintly.

"It's… nothing. Don't worry about it."

A chill runs down Sonic's spine.

"If you say so."

"Sonic?"

An awkward silence

"Yeah?"

"Will you carry me again?"

"Sure, Sal."

* * *

I feel like I'm floating. Like my mind is detached from my body. As if I'm not even really here. And my existence feels flawed. I don't feel like myself, and I can't even establish what myself, as a being, is. What is me? What exactly am I? A concept? An idea? I feel like nothing.

Maybe because I am nothing. Perhaps this doesn't exist. Or what if this is a delusional nightmare that can't be explained?

What is the purpose of my existence? What is my sole reason for being here? Exploration? Discovery? Making progress seems impossible because a goal isn't apparent. My role in existence hasn't been properly established.

It could be right in front of my face.

Flash.  
And I can't even see it.  
Flash.  
It's dark out here.  
Flash.  
Or is it too bright?  
Flash.  
I can't see.  
Flash.  
Can't feel.  
Flash.  
Nothing makes any sense.  
Flash.  
Existence is complicated. I didn't ask for this. Things weren't difficult when there was nothing.

* * *

Cut.

* * *

Action.

* * *

Footsteps. Loud. Breathing. Sweat.  
The crushing leaves echo through the forest.  
Panting.  
Even the mighty have their moments of weakness.

Holding tightly to her, carrying her in his arms, Sonic dashes through the great forest almost blindly dodging trees and the like.  
She's gripping his sides as tightly as she can, clinging as closely as she can to his running torso. She can sense his fatigue, which frightens her in ways that nothing else has.

* * *

Bad feeling after bad feeling. Or it could have been the same one. Constant.  
It was hard to tell.  
From a ways back, spotlights run along the trees, following Sonic's movement.  
SWATbots. Hard to tell how many. Too many to fend off alone. Lights casting an illuminating beam across the line of trees. Shadows part around the beam of light, to show a glimpse of what hides therein.

The light cuts through the darkness, and over Sonic. He doesn't even need to look back to know they're advancing. Closing in. The light outlining his shadow says it all. Their shadows. Sally's crumpled form, latched to the front of his body as he attempts to carry her to safety.

Home.  
Knothole.

* * *

Panting. She's crying, and he's trying to tell her it will all be alright, but it only comes out in panicked breaths. His lungs on fire, he attempts vainly to tell her to hold in there. That he needs her now, more than ever.

The sounds of approaching 'bots as metal feet drag across the dead forest floor. Not too far behind, now. Sonic is running slower.

That's when she said it. Face buried in Sonic's chest, completely muffled and unheard. Three words that vaguely resemble 'I love you'

* * *

and that's when  
**SNAP!**  
he falls forward  
screaming  
and so does she  
crying

Her limp form is ejected from her grasp, her momentum carrying her deadweight down hard onto the thin bed of leaves that crush underneath her crumpled form.

crying  
shaking  
trying to compose herself

Sonic is still screaming. Louder than ever. Sound tearing through his vocal chords, his voice dies as he writhes in pain. Sally gets up to see what happened, only to discover Sonic's right leg caught in the jagged teeth of a bear trap. She immediately yelps, and runs to his aide.

Approaching footsteps.

"Sonic!"

"Forget about me. Run."

"No!"

She fumbles with the trap, looking for some sort of release. Groping the large metal device blindly in the darkness, feeling for some sort of trigger. Light suddenly shines on the trap to reveal that there is no trigger. No release.

* * *

it wasn't meant to open back up.  
her eyes widen in horror.

* * *

"I can't leave you, Sonic" She chokes out, while trying to pry open his restraint.

"You have to!"

Less than a hundred yards, the 'bots hurry to catch up.  
Pulling with all her strength, the mouth open almost a centimeter.

* * *

"Sonic, I can't. I love you."

* * *

Failure.  
The trap snaps shut..  
He winces in pain.

"We don't have time for this shit, Sally!"

Her teary eyes shimmer in the spotlight. She only sits there, staring. Trying not to cry.

* * *

Trying to take him in.  
Trying to help him out.

Trying not to be so fucking useless.

* * *

But she is.

"RUN!"

Instincts finally kick on. Primal fear. Flight.

Jumping up, she runs

but it's too late

* * *

Sonic watches helplessly as the 'bots run right passed him. As if he wasn't even there.  
As if they only cared about Sally…

* * *

"HEY!"

* * *

His feeble attempt to call their attention carries out in vain. His voice is ragged and broken.

He tries to stand, despite the immense pain in his leg. He tugs wildly at the chain attached to the jagged teeth around his leg. Screaming and crying, he falls to the ground.

attempting like Sally before him to pry the mouth open  
to free his leg  
useless effort

drenched in hopeless despair.

* * *

can't give up now  
i have to see her again  
have to tell her i love her

* * *

should have said it  
earlier

when she did.

* * *

out of options.  
no time left.  
something must be done.

Placing his hand on the top of the trap, he grits his teeth and forces the trap down and his leg up. Screaming through his teeth, the skin peels down like a sock, tearing like elastic. Blood leaking all over the cool metal. Staining the backs of his white gloves with large splotches of dark red, that looks black in the pail moonlight. Dim light shines between the dead limbs onto his exposed muscle tissue. Tendons pulsating as he continues forcing the object down.

What he didn't factor in was the fact that his foot was to big to fit between the teeth.

* * *

"FUCK!"

* * *

Acting on impulse, he reaches to his back and takes hold of one of his quills. Firmly grasping it in his right hand, he yanks it upward and over his shoulder. Skin ripping open, droplets of blood fling from the end of the quill and spatter on his back and neck. Kicking the foot up with the trap on it, he props the steel object against a tree. Leg stretched out in front of him, large quill in hand. He stretches forward. The edge of the spike meets his leg a couple inches above the ankle. Bare muscle tissue. He presses hard, and starts sawing as quickly as he can. Slicing the somewhat blunt quill through the tendons, the thin edge meets his bone. The sound like dragging a dull jigsaw back and forth across a log. He screams and throws down his broken piece, and reaches to his left for a large rock. He drags it within reach of his other hand, and barely manages to pick it up, and lift it above his head. He brings it down on his exposed bone as hard as he can. A sickening crack as bone splinters. Again. CRACK! The split bone disconnects his foot from his leg.

* * *

Free, he falls to his stomach and begins to crawl. Dragging himself across the withered leaves and brown soil. His body goes into shock.

* * *

And that's when he collapsed.

* * *

this is it.

the end.

or maybe it's just the beginning… . . . . .

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heh…  
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